


Rain over Manhatten

by edgarallennope



Series: Tony Angst short stories [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Tony, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Nightmares, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 09:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4299351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgarallennope/pseuds/edgarallennope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terrifying memories of Afghanistan plague Tony in the middle of the night, Natasha is on call. One-Shot</p>
<p>(Apologies for horrible summery and title.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rain over Manhatten

**Author's Note:**

> *shrug* I had a bad day. When I have bad days, Tony gets hurt. I love him, I really do.

_They're laughing._  
  
 _His head is pulled up from underneath the water, cold and dirty and everywhere, and he can hear them laughing, laughing at him, then some were shouting,  and he didn't know what they were saying, Yinsen was meant to be translating, where was he?_  
  
 _Their hands are all over him, holding him in place, fisted in his hair, running down his bare body, on his face, fingering the electromagnet in his chest that shocks him as it makes contact with the water, combining in some sort of pact to hurt him._  
  
 _He begs, he begs for them to stop but at what cost? They remind him over and over again, Jericho Jericho Jericho_ I CAN'T _, he sobs, hot oily tears mingling with the tepid water still on his face, before he's shoved back in. It fills his lungs as he screams into the icy abyss, fear wrapping round his heart and taking his breath which forms rapid bubbles in the water. When he's pulled back up, he's gasping desperately for air, gagging as he coughs up water, and he can hear the laughing continue, and now one of them are behind him, something hard and warm pressed against his backside, and all he can do is cry harder,_ oh god please not this.  
  
 _Please, please just stop..._  
  
-  
  
Natasha was up, the early hours of the morning seen as just convenient extra time. It was a Bad Night, and Bad Nights meant that the early hours were her domain. Every cloud has a silver lining. She was using this Bad Night to just relax, a book in her hand and the all-night classical radio station on a low volume. It was soothing, especially with the weather; it had been pouring with rain all day and it continued through the night.  
  
"Ms Romanov." She heard Jarvis address her, and she put down her book.  
  
"Jarvis, what is it?"  
  
"If you are not too preoccupied, may I trouble you to visit Sirs bedroom?"  
  
"I suppose so, why?"  
  
"Sir appears to be suffering from another nightmare, and a rather severe one in this case."  
  
Another? "Stark has nightmares? Does he have PTSD?"   
  
"I believe he presents all the symptoms, please Ms Romanov he does appear to be in considerable distress." Jarvis sounded concerned and Natasha got to her feet to make for the elevator without replying.  
  
By the time she got to his bedroom door she could already hear small, pained noises. She felt her heart melt. She knew Tony's file inside and out, about Afghanistan, and she knew the wormhole had shaken him up more than he cared to admit.

As she opened the door, she could already see him, curled up on the edge of his bed, dangerously close to falling off. She could hear small, pitiful whimpers that sounded so strange coming from such a proud man, but she knew as well as anyone about the masks the man wore, she wore just as many. In sleep, the masks go down.He was trembling violently, and as she went to sit on the side of the bed she saw the tear tracks on his face, his face set in a pitiful grimace.

“Tony, hey Tony it’s Natasha.” She said softly, refraining from touching him for now. “Listen to me, you’re home, it’s just a dream, you’re ok.”

She found, sadly, that her words had very little impact, as Tony stayed trapped in his terrified state. She slowly laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched violently under her touch, and before she could catch him, he toppled off the side of the bed. He cried out, scrabbling to the corner of the room where he curled up, his head turned inwards to the wall. He was whispering and she couldn’t quite pick it up. She slowly crawled over to him, and she saw him tense in fear. When she got close enough she heard his whispered mantra:

“Please, please stop, I can’t, I’m sorry, please don’t.” he begged, more hot tears trailing down his face.

Natasha looked to Tony as a brother, god knew they argued like siblings, and seeing him in so much pain was devastating. She reached out again, softly cradling his face and wiping away his tears. He was tense at first, every muscle knotted and strained, until slowly he started to relax, and his eyes sluggishly opened.

“N’tasha?” He slurred.

“Hey, Stark.”

“Wh’t happen’d...I-”

“You had a nightmare, Jarvis called me. Do you remember what it was about?”

“I...uh… Afghn’stan.” He said, face crumpling in shame. Natasha pulled him into a strong embrace, so his forehead rested on her chest, and she wrapped his arms tightly round him. Slowly, he reciprocated, and she felt hot tears soak her top. Her head rested on top of his, slowly rocking him.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, if you don’t want to.” She whispered. He nodded, softly.

“‘Tasha?”

“Yeah, Tony?”

“‘M tired.”

“I bet.”

“W’ll y’stay?” She smiled softly.

“Of course, wanna get back into the bed?” He nodded into her.

She slowly helped him onto his feet and back onto his bed, where he more or less collapsed, curling tightly into the fetal position. Natasha climbed in after him, being sure to stay close enough to help him feel safe, but also give him his space.

“‘Tasha?” Tony murmured, eyes closed.

“Yeah?”

“Bad n’ght?” Natasha stiffened slightly.

“It, uh, it was. I guess neither of us should be alone tonight.” Tony nodded slightly.

“Th’nks ‘Tasha."

“Whenever, Tony. Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

They drifted off into a companionable sleep, as the rain continued to beat down hard over New York, and neither sleep that night was plagued by dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment for your poor overworked-student author thank u


End file.
